


Better than Being a Bridezilla

by cinephile2020



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, John in Denial About His Sexuality, Love, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Secret Relationship, Sherlock pretends he doesnt care, lets get it started, not gay, proposal, sarcastic, sherlock dont do that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 15:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1230805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinephile2020/pseuds/cinephile2020
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John got married. </p>
<p>If they had been anymore unenthusiastic about the whole thing, they would probably be dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better than Being a Bridezilla

John looked at the crowd in front of him.

‘Crowd’ may have been a bit of an exaggeration since there was only two people, but  _dammit_ , he was really in the mood for being a drama queen today.

Lestrade had his arms crossed and was sitting in one of the metal folding chairs that they had found dusting in the corner of the room. The D.I's smile was so wide his entire dental history could probably be seen if John stepped close enough.

Sally was slumped in a chair nearby, a smirk on her face, arms swinging at her sides.

He moved his gaze over to Sherlock, who was sporting a blue button up and new haircut, scribbling his signature on the papers. Those seriously official papers. 

The pen Sherlock was using seemed a little inky. It looked like his words were bleeding through the page.

What if all of the stuff under it became illegible? Would they have to come back and do this again?

He quickly grabbed a new pen from his pocket and handed it to Sherlock. The detective gave him a shy smile, taking it. 

John tugged at his cotton collar and cleared his throat.

The officiator in front of them collected the papers and opened his mouth once Sherlock capped the pen.

“Nope,” Sherlock snapped, holding a hand up to his face when he saw the man gathering breath to speak, “please do  _not_  ask us to kiss.” Sherlock then pointed to Sally and Lestrade, “and  _neither_  of you clap,” he looked at the man again, “and for  _gods-sake no congratulations_.”

There was a stunned silence. “I’m so proud of you two,” Lestrade chirped sarcastically after a moment.

John tried to take deep breaths, ignoring him. “Well, you two been very helpful. So, erm, thank you for.. witnessing.”

Sally burst into applause. Lestrade stifled a laugh as Sherlock blushed deep red, glaring at her moving hands.

“No,” John sighed, grabbing Sherlock's forearm when he started towards her. “We’re going home now. See you two soon.” He then turned to the officiator, “thanks,” he offered awkwardly.

The man just gave him a dubious look; John didn’t blame him.

 

The doctor had officially decided he was only getting married once.

The entire situation seemed like a bad idea from the beginning. After 11 months of dating, Sherlock demanded, having to do everything to its full potential, that John and he get married.

John laughed at him the first time he brought it up, claiming that a year together wasn't long enough to make decisions so-  _permanent._

He remembered scowling at Sherlock the second time he insisted. When it was mentioned for the ninth time, though, John was ragged in the bones and defeated from the inside out. He said yes, then continued eating the sandwich he had made for lunch. They didn't bother with rings. 

It wasn't exactly  _romantic_ , the whole thing, but he did spot Sherlock smiling to himself rather a lot after John gave in. 

After they arranged a date in the registry office, they realized they had to find witnesses. Since no one knew they were dating, that had come as a slight challenge. 

John, in his genius, resolved to take Lestrade to a bar the day before the marriage to ask him; he could only choke the offer out after he became drunk enough to see two of everything, mind you.

Lestrade, who was equally as smashed, resolved to call Sally with the good news of the wedding, which, although not their first choice of people to attend, handed them a second witness. The less people who knew, the better. That was the motto.  

It wasn't like John and Sherlock were  _embarrassed_  of each other;the entire situation of 'Two Flatmates who Spend Every Waking Moment Together' had just been so built up in the papers and by the people they knew, it seemed better to deny every detail of their life rather than give the world the satisfaction of being right. Plus John wasn't gay.

So he had gotten up that morning, eaten his toast, brushed his teeth, slipped on a jumper, and met Sherlock at the door of their flat. They got into a cab and came out of the car at the registry office. Now they were married. 

He looked over to his husband as they headed out the door; his arm was brushing Johns shoulder with every step, the Sally-induced blush still fading from his cheeks as they stepped out to the cold London air.

He wrapped his hand around Johns as they started down the sidewalk, his fingers warm and soft. 

The doctor had officially decided he was only getting married once, but once would be enough, he supposed.


End file.
